


Something

by geidi_primes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV First Person, Romance, Short, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 09:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13948746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geidi_primes/pseuds/geidi_primes
Summary: I know why I'm standing here, but i feel like I'm not here really. I've bought a pack of cigarettes, even though I gave that up years ago. It's a welcome distraction from the name on the buzzer I’m staring at. Can’t feel my feet. Maybe he's not home. He's almost definitely not home.





	Something

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short scene I couldn't get out of my head and couldn't place anywhere, so here it is.

I know why I'm standing here, but it feels like I'm not here really. Bought a pack of cigarettes, even though I gave that up years ago. It's a welcome distraction from the name on the buzzer I’m staring at. Can’t feel my feet. Maybe he's not home. He's almost definitely not home. My mind is going into overdrive.

The door opens. I blank, he's staring at me.  
  
“Oh, hello. What - is there something wrong?”

I've masturbated to his face twice today. I've thought about his eyes. Yeah. Seriously.

I make myself speak. “Can I come in?”  
  
He shrugs. I can see he's uneasy, or maybe I’m projecting. “You can. I am sort of expecting somebody though. I mean, not right now. But, you know. Soon.”  
  
I feel like jumping out of my skin. He's standing in the dark corridor, face concealed, and I wish I could see it as I walk behind him to his door. I wish I could see him as he's rattling around his tiny dark kitchen, making tea - I wish I could, as he sits down at the nice wooden table across me and looks me in the eye.

It's dark outside now, and his apartment is quiet. I forgot it’s Sunday and all the bars are closed, so there’s no one in the street below. I can see his bed from where I'm sitting: king size in a huge room, filled with books and clothes lying around. An old kettle in the corner, and I think I see a guitar. I've seen it before, and now I feel like I'm visiting for the first time. He doesn’t take care of himself or his apartment especially, but he looks so good. His bright hair is a little greasy and he’s got a bit of a stubble. His kitchen’s messy. I realize he's still staring at me.

“Who’s visiting you?” I try.

“Just a friend. Harry, why are you here?”  
  
He never says my name like that.  
  
He’s looking right at me through those thin rimmed glasses. The eye contact makes my hair stand and I’m glad he hasn't turned the light on yet. As it’s slowly getting darker, he looks like he's glowing in the dusk. Its harder to see. It's easier to speak.

“I just needed to ask you something. To know.”

“Is it about Blaise? Is there something wrong?”

“No. I mean, a bit. In a way.” I exhale. “It's more about me.”  
  
“Yeah?” I wish he'd say more than that. He's drinking his tea with an expression on his face I can't decipher.  
  
“I feel like I’m imagining things. But I need to know. I don't expect anything. I don't want to ruin anything.”  
  
“Harry. What's this about?”

All I can think about is pushing him against his kitchen counter and kissing him, kissing him. Feeling his body under my fingers.

“I ...have been feeling something. For a while now. Maybe it's because we talk so much. About things that are hard. I feel like I know you, also because you and Blaise are so similar in some ways.”  
  
“Harry, don't do this.” I’m staring at the lines on the table so hard it should’ve caught fire by now.  
  
“I like you. I want you. I have for a while now. I don't know how to feel about it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll leave.” I start getting up.  
  
“Wait.”  
  
“I’m not ready for what you have to say.”  
  
“And _I was_?”  
  
That makes me look at him. He looks shaken, his eyes have this weird shine to them. We’re both standing now.  
  
“All this time?”  
  
I’m shaking now, just a little bit. I can feel the adrenaline in my hands, the blood rushing in my ears.  
  
“The last few years. I couldn't let it go. I had to tell you.”  
  
“You know how _selfish_ that is?” There’s a strain to that voice so painful I can feel it in my chest.  
  
“I’m sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”  
  
He walks up to me, and I almost lose my grip and touch him. “I think maybe that's best.”  
  
My body is burning. Tingling. I didn't realize I was breathing so hard.  
  
“It wasn't all in my head, was it? The looks, the conversations?”  
  
His eyes fix on mine. “I think you should leave.”  
  
I can't look at him anymore. My head is spinning and I can’t feel my fingers as I walk down the corridor, trying not to turn my head. Look at him. Don't look at him.  
  
“Harry.” I stop and stare at the dark before me.  
  
“Don't tell him. Blaise. Don't tell him.”  
  
I shake my head and start walking. The door at the end of the corridor closes and I stop. Around me is pitch black and I don’t know where to go.  
It’s alright, though. I’ve never been scared of the dark.


End file.
